


My Elven Dream no longer mine

by Teriana



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Betrayal, M/M, Thorin's brother, elven dream, unexpected love, unreflecting egoism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 00:29:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20349358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teriana/pseuds/Teriana
Summary: The Fate made an irretrievable mistake of letting them meet, and Love warmed their hearts with her tender fire, and they dared to dream and desire. The Past and the Present with no future and a once-in-a-lifetime miracle of love.





	My Elven Dream no longer mine

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, miz uzbad,  
Why are you sad?  
What’s on heart and mind?  
Despair and sorrow in eyes of thee  
I see their aching shine.  
My one true love  
The one in life  
I lost and found now  
But the truth is harsh  
And the loss is great  
The price that was paid for love  
I suffer grief the loss of mine  
My heart embraced with fire  
I wish I knew it from the start  
I’m not his one desire  
And now I know  
I resigned myself  
My love is a fateful sign  
It’s stained with blood forevermore  
My Elven Dream no longer mine

That very winter, late at night the Elven King was returning home from Lorien. The weather was truly harsh and chilling. It’s been snowing heavily all day long and only at dusk this trouble ceased a little.

He rode alone and hurried home but as he passed the river Celebrant that sprang from the Mirrormere he stopped for a moment peering into the darkness before him, the darkness that led to Nanduhirion, a valley surrounded by the Misty Mountains.

Recently, Thranduil heard a lot about this place from Lady Galadriel. Well, all the elves of Lorien did was talk about this ferocious battle between the dwarves and the orcs. They said that nine years before the battle, the king of dwarves Thrór had been murdered by Azog the Goblin in Moria. That event triggered a furious backlash from the dwarves, who assembled their armies and, in their quest for revenge against Azog, began the final battle of the War of the Dwarves and Orcs was the Battle of Azanulbizar, in which Thráin II led the armies of the dwarves against Azog and his horde of Orcs. The two forces met in the valley of Azanulbizar, the Dimrill Dale, beneath the East-gate of Moria. The final battle was ferocious, and though the dwarves were victorious, their losses were great. And by custom, the dwarves would lay their dead in tombs of stone, but so many were slain in the battle that their people broke tradition and instead burned their bodies on flaming pyres.

The elven horse suddenly backed away, feeling something.

“What’s wrong, boy?” Thranduil leaned to the animal’s ear and patted him on the withers.

He jumped to the ground and looked around carefully. Everything was clear, only the chilling wind howled in the valley, the valley of the dead.

Thinking about this battle Thranduil suddenly remembered the Battle of Dagorlad in which his father Oropher had been slain a long long time ago, about three thousand years ago, in the second age. That was one of the greatest battles Middle Earth had ever seen. There was great loss on either side, but Sauron was defeated and fled back to Barad-dûr. However, a thousand years later a shadow fell on Greenwood the Great, and it became known as Mirkwood when he built his stronghold in the southern regions of the forest. Even Thranduil’s family was not spared the scourge; he lost his wife in this foul place. He buried his memories together with her and it left a deep lasting scar in his heart.

The wind from the valley brought some weird sound and it was like a man’s groan.

Thranduil pricked up his ears trying to hear it better. But he heard nothing more.

“That only seemed to me.” He said, raising his fur collar against the cold wind that dared to creep under his winter coat, and he shivered slightly. “Enough for today! I need to get going.”

As soon as he started climbing his horse he heard that strange moan again.

The Elven King took his horse by the reins and stepped into the darkness which swallowed him up immediately in a thick black cloud.

Soon he saw him on the riverbank. A young black-haired man, severely wounded and chilled to the bone moaned in agony, with his dying breath.

Thranduil’s heart suddenly trembled and he sat down beside the man. Great sympathy roused in him and he extended his hands to the wounded creature.

“Let me help you.” he offered and carefully cut the man’s shirt stained with blood and saw his horrible gashes all over his body. “Great Eru help me!” it slipped from him, and he laid his palms on the man’s stiffened body.

That one watched him sluggishly and kept moaning and then Thranduil told him.

“Hold on! I’m trying to help you.” He began whispering the words he used to say during such procedures while his hands were doing their usual work. They were healing the dying man. Some pleasant warmth surrounded his weakened essence, filling it with new energy and transferring this vital resource from the Elven King to him.

The young man began coughing, his mouth bled, but then it stopped, and he cast a stunned look at the Elven King, and then he passed out.

Thranduil breathed a sigh of relief and sat down on the ground next to the motionless man. He was really tired and also needed to restore himself. To do this he needed to be home urgently. But what should he do with this saved man? He can’t leave him here dying again when he’s already rescued him wresting from the paws of death.

“I can’t take him with me.” Thranduil thought for a moment looking at his pale but handsome young face and then said aloud. “I could probably take him with me and pass him to his kin somewhere in the middle of my way. Yes, that sounds much better.” He came to the tenable conclusion and got up lifting the man’s unconscious body. The Elven King walked over to his horse and put the man on its back in front of him.

Leaving the valley of Nanduhirion Thranduil meditated if he had acted right. “Anyway I saved his life, he was lucky to wait for me to come.”

An evil snow storm echoed behind him but the Elven King bravely galloped on forth carrying his saved stranger from the valley of the dead farther and farther away.

***

The black-haired youth recovered seven hours later, when Thranduil was already in his Woodland Realm. The King of the Silvan Elves couldn’t leave him anywhere for he met no one on his way. He therefore resolved to bring him to his kingdom where he immediately placed the foundling in the care of his subjects. They cleaned his wounds, applied healing ointment and bandaged his entire body. They forced him to drink a supporting herbal tincture when he came to his senses for a short time, and then let him fall asleep again.

The next morning, Thranduil’s servant reported to his master that the man was awake, and the King of the Silvan Elves decided to visit him.

He went down to the one of his elves’ rooms and entered it.

His dying stranger of yesterday lay in his bed, and as soon as he saw the Elven King coming, he rose from his bed and holding his hand to his side bowed low and uttered.

“Your Majesty, I’m so much obliged to you for my saving. I owe you for the rest of my life.”

Thranduil smiled at his cordial statement and approached him.

“It’s all right. You are just lucky I was there when you were.” He looked at the man’s blue eyes and his neat beard and something pricked him painfully. Howbeit, he pretended that he noticed nothing of the kind.

“What’s your name?” he asked the young man and was quite astounded to hear it.

“I’m Frerin from the Longbeards.” That one answered politely and bowed again.

And again this strange feeling overwhelmed the Elven King. So, he saved the dwarf, one of those who mistreated him and appropriated his heirlooms fraudulently, and that had been only about thirty years ago. 

The dwarf must have heard his thoughts.

“Your Majesty,” he said, drawing Thranduil’s attention. “I am at your service.” And he attempted to give his thankful regards again but winced in sudden pain.

“Lie down and rest.” The Elven King suddenly felt uncomfortable with the young dwarf’s good manners and waited for him to crawl back under his blanket.

“You are too kind, Your Majesty.” he said and smiled.

Thranduil caught himself smiling warmly at the dwarf and replied to him awkwardly.

“Just rest and gain your strength and we’ll talk about that later.”

Frerin nodded and smiled thankfully at the Elven King.

That one cast his final confused glance at the rescued dwarf and departed.

The night that followed was an ordeal for both of them. At first Thranduil couldn’t slip a wink for a long time and then he saw himself in Erebor again, and those greedy creatures who mocked him and stole his treasure. He experienced that abominable humiliation once again and it was most unpleasant.

On the contrary, Frerin very quickly sank into a doze and just as quickly he was subjected to torture beholding the nightmares of that severe battle at the eastern gate of Khazad-dûm. He had seen his dwarf fellows, slain by hundreds by the ugly scary orcs, who in their turn were killed at large number too and he lost count of the dead. His brother Thorin was fighting furiously nearby, he saw Balin and Dwalin too. And then Frerin heard the warning cries of his brother when he was distracted for a single moment and that terrible pain in his body.

Frerin woke up with a start in a cold sweat in the elven bed. His scared eyes looked around trying to figure out where he was and then he remembered the Elven King. No matter what the other dwarves said about the elves and their nature he felt hot gratitude inside for this elven lord. He did not let him die and provided him with everything he needed. Frerin closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows.

“And what about the others? Are they all dead? What happened to the orcs? Were they defeated?” he asked himself wanting to find it out and ask the Elven King.

“He must have been offended because we received him very badly when he came.” Frerin thought. Actually, his grandfather Thrór had acted in bad faith. It was his idea to leave the elven treasures in Erebor. The King under the Mountain had a large treasure hoard but most of all he cherished the Arkenstone, a precious gem which dwarvish miners found a long long time ago even before he, Frerin, his brother Thorin and their sister Dis was born. This was his greatest treasure which was now lost along with their homeland.

Frerin began to cry all of a sudden. For thirty years the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain had wandered in the Wilderness suffering hardship and loss, and when they came to Moria, it met them with death. So many friends lost their lives, they stayed there forever. Frerin realized that he knows nothing about his family and about what happened to them. The young dwarf attempted to get up but then remembered the Elven King’s words and decided to wait till the morning. He could surrender to sleep only two hours later when his tired mind slipped into relaxing dormancy.

***

The next early morning Frerin was awakened by the black-haired boy who brought him food and herbal tea.

“Hello.” He turned to him and smiled friendly. “My name is Frerin.”

The elven guy gave him reciprocal nice smile and responded.

“I’m Eldaron. I brought you food and a secret elven tincture for revitalizing. How are you feeling today, dwarfish lad?”

Frerin stretched and yawned.

“I’m fine, elven fellow. Thank your king I’m alive.” his eyes were pensive for an instant. “But honestly, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what happened to my relatives.”

Eldaron sent a knowing nod showing his sincere sympathy. He really liked this polite dwarf boy.

“Do you know whether they remained alive, Frerin?”

Frerin shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know, Eldaron. Your king has told me nothing of what he saw there on the battlefield.”

Thranduil’s servant nodded again.

“Well, I’ve heard just a little from the others that yesterday was a final decisive date of your confrontation with the orcs. I’m sure my master will speak to you later. He wants you to recover first.”

Frerin removed blanket and looked at his bandaged body that ached no more.

“I’m all right.” He assured Eldaron and immediately inquired. “Could you please ask your king to take some time to talk with me?”

His blue eyes looked so imploringly at Eldaron that he gave in.

“Well, I will try to speak to him this afternoon.” He replied. “Do you need anything else?”

Frerin smiled nicely and looked at the tray full of food.

“Thanks a lot. You do really care for me so well.”

Eldaron gave a friendly nod and said before he left.

“Take care, boy.”

***

Eldaron reported Thranduil on the request from Frerin on the same day as promised.

The Elven King was clearly in no hurry to see the young dwarf he had rescued yesterday. There were reasons for this situation, several reasons. First and the most: Thranduil felt uneasy because he had saved his enemy. Of course he didn’t know that he was the dwarf he hated. Some ambiguous strange feelings haunted his mind torturing and exacting an account why he had done so. He resisted them saying it was a destiny’s call to which he listened although, incidentally, in fate he not believed.

Thranduil spent all day pondering on this matter and only in the evening could find some time to see Frerin.

“Your Majesty!” that one greeted him with a kind smile and a low bow. “Your Majesty,” he repeated. “As probably the last male of Durin’s bloodline I would like to express my gratitude for saving my life and I would like to apologize for what you had to suffer because of my grandfather Thrór’s greediness at the time. I deeply regret his bad actions, Your Majesty.”

Thranduil’s face became frowned and irritated because of the sudden Frerin’s words which stirred unpleasant memories. He studied these compassionate sincere eyes of his that looked at him for an answer and was silent trying to sort out his thoughts that were overflowing with injured feelings of the days of yore.

“I feel very much obliged to you, Your Majesty.” The young dwarf continued. “What can I do for you? If you need anything from me, please tell me.”

Thranduil wanted to say that it would be better if he left but instead said the following.

“How are you feeling today?”

Frerin blushed for a second feeling very uncomfortable he was touched by Thranduil’s concern. He really felt that he did not deserve such attention.

“I’m fine due to your magical care, Your Majesty.” He said thankfully and as if sensing Thranduil’s hesitation he added. “I won’t bother you with me anymore, Your Majesty. I will leave you alone if you don’t need anything from me right now.”

Thranduil’s brows were drawn together in a frown.

“I think you have nowhere else to go, Frerin. It’s like you said, you are the last male of your Durin’s bloodline.” He uttered hinting at his unenviable plight.

Frerin turned pale.

“What did you see there, Your Majesty?” he asked him feeling impatient inside.

Thranduil approached the dwarf boy that was standing beside his bed and said.

“Do you really want to know what I saw there, Frerin?” his voice sounded very heavy.

The dwarf held his breath gazing in Thranduil’s troubled azure eyes.

“Was it your first battle, Frerin?” the Elven King inquired him.

“Yes, Your Majesty, it was.” the dwarf said below his breath.

Thranduil licked his lips, intending to reveal everything to the dwarf.

“This battle in Nanduhirion was fierce Frerin, though I never took part in it.” He made a pause watching the young agitated boy. “You were the last living person I saw there.” He uttered at last and saw that the young dwarf was crying crushed by his words. “I’m sorry you lost everything, boy.”

Frerin sighed heavily looking at Thranduil. This elven lord was right. He had nowhere else to go. He’s the last living of Durin’s line. He had no home, had no one to turn to. The dwarf closed his eyes in depressed spirits.

Thranduil’s heart anguished unexpectedly as he recollected the day he had lost his father and the state he had been at that moment of great loss. He unknowingly embraced crying Frerin and began comforting him.

“Don’t cry! I know how it feels, boy. It’s really hard but you should live on, boy. Find that peace in yourself only then will you find the strength to move on.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Frerin stopped sniffling in his hands.

Thranduil parted with him suddenly and looked at the dwarf with great interest.

“You know what, Frerin? I think I should introduce you to my son Legolas and you will definitely make friends.”

Frerin smiled coyly.

“I’d be very delighted to meet the young prince of Mirkwood.” He informed the Elven King.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Thranduil clapped him on the shoulder and offered. “Let’s drink to the health of yours tonight, boy.”

“You are too kind, Your Majesty.” The young dwarf was touched again.

“Fine! Then I will go and speak to my son now.” The Elven King specified and left Frerin alone.

After about two hours Eldaron dropped by and brought to Frerin new clothes which fit him very well. There was a white linen shirt and black silk breeches. Then another elf came in and he measured Frerin’s feet and then brought him brown leather boots. Frerin was very pleased with such attention and thanked everyone.

A pretty elven maiden entered and helped him to arrange his hair. First she combed it and then plaited two small braids as he had asked. The dwarf also thanked her and saw her off with admiring gaze. Ten minutes later another pretty elven girl came and invited him to dinner.

Frerin has never been to the Woodland Realm and therefore his curious eyes wandered everywhere and stared intently at each thing he met whether it’s an elf or something. When the girl led him to the open veranda that looked really impressive, the dwarf felt so much stunned that he gasped with admiration. That rocky plateau reminded him strongly of his own mountain.

Thranduil watching him view his veranda, announced.

“You got it right, Frerin. Your fellow dwarves built this veranda and everything you see here.”

Frerin looked at the fair-haired young boy standing next to the Elven King and that one approached him.

“Legolas, my son.” Thranduil introduced the boy.

His son smiled at Frerin and the young dwarf boy bowed politely to him.

After an exchange of pleasantries Thranduil invited them both to the table. Frerin and Legolas sat down and the King of the Silvan Elves filled in their glasses and his own.

He raised it high and looking at Frerin pronounced.

“To your health, Frerin! Two days ago your fate wasn’t so benignant to you but now when you are all right I wish you to get even much better.

The dwarf rose from the table suddenly and spoke out.

“I’m highly appreciative of Your Majesty’s concern for my health. As I said before I’m truly grateful to you and I’ll do my all to make amends to you for negative experience you had to have with my kin.”

The Elven King’s azure eyes looked at him appraisingly. Though the words didn’t come easy to him he said them anyway.

“Listen, Frerin. I don’t mind you staying here for a while. I’m sure my son would be also glad to encourage you.

Thranduil’s son nodded obediently.

“I know that dwarves are masters of various crafts. I’d like to learn something from you.”

Frerin made a bow and answered.

“This is much credit to me, Your Highness. I will be pleased to do it for you.”

The dinner they had was very delicious and Frerin ate fish and vegetables to satiety and tasted the elvish wine too. The dwarf was highly elated and felt obliged to the Elven King again and so he thanked him.

Legolas walked him back to his room and there Frerin went straight to bed because he felt sleepy so much after his palatable dinner with wine.

However, his memory still held these horrible images of the passed battle and that’s why his nightmares gave him no rest either at this night or at following nights.

A week in the Woodland Realm passed almost unnoticeably, and then a second and a third, Legolas and Frerin got closer, and Thranduil breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that one dwarf in the elven kingdom wouldn’t spoil anything. And he was right. Frerin was a very inquisitive young man. It’s known that elves cannot work well with metal and some of them learnt this craft only due to dwarves those were excellent masters in this area. While in Erebor, Frerin had managed to learn much from his brother Thorin and the other dwarves. He knew how to deal with metal and could work the stone. Legolas introduced him to the elves that were in charge of Thranduil’s Treasury. It was a small chamber with several chests stuffed with gems, various minerals and all of them were rough. Frerin asked the Elven King’s permission to find a room for him that he could turn into a workshop, and when the elves gave him the opportunity he asked for tools and heartily set to work. Within three days he had a ready gift for the Elven King and presented it to him.

It was an amethyst ring, and the stone was so beautiful in its metal setting that Thranduil’s eyes burnt with avarice and desire. He asked Frerin to make something else and longed eagerly for the dwarf to please him.

Frerin’s new creation lived up to Thranduil’s expectations, which was beside himself with excitement when he saw a filigree diadem crowned with a large sapphire three days later.

“Your hands are made of gold, Frerin. I couldn’t even suspect you’re able to make such things. I’m fascinated by your talent.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Your Majesty.” The dwarf replied and added. “I was very pleased to make them for you. It’s a real pleasure for me to see you happy.”

Thranduil was embarrassed by his last words and nodded.

“Do you need anything else, Frerin?” the Elven King inquired and saw the dwarf’s eyes drop.

“Well,” he started. “I saw a small pool in which a mountain river carries its waters. May I sometimes use it for relaxing?”

Thranduil grinned inwardly, and though everyone in this kingdom knew it was his personal royal pool, he politely answered.

“Yes, you may, Frerin, but…” he made a pause and looked at the dwarf jokingly. “It will cost you another sapphire ring.”

Frerin gifted him a knowing smile.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I’m appreciative of your kindness and it will be my honor to create this for your pleasure.”

Thranduil appreciated the dwarf’s words and left.

After receiving permission from the Elven King, Frerin began to visit the royal pool whenever he had free time.

The young dwarf loved to spend his time in this quiet place. At first he swam a little there, and then reposed, leaning on its edges. This cool water of the mountain river gave him a kind of relaxation he exactly needed and it also improved his mood.

One day, when he was there as usual, the Elven King appeared, and he secretly surveyed the dwarf swim in it. But as soon as Thranduil learnt that Frerin sensed his presence, he stepped away from the column behind which he stood and suddenly asked the dwarf.

“How old are you, Frerin?”

“Forty eight.” Frerin replied, and the Elven King immediately realized that he was too young by the standards of the dwarf life length.

Thranduil ran an eye over him again and remarked.

“You’re very well built, Frerin, you know.”

The dwarf boy’s cheeks flushed, and his eyes fell but he said nothing. The Elven King then retreated.

Right after this strange scene in the royal pool, to say it exactly within a few days Frerin wanted to speak with Eldaron, and when the elven boy found some time for him, Frerin felt very glad.

The black-haired guy went down to his room and brought some treats for Frerin. The young dwarf felt a bit embarrassed, Eldaron was a very kind person with whom he too made friends in this kingdom.

The young dwarf thanked the elven guy, and they began their conversation.

“Can you tell me more about your master, Eldaron?”

“What exactly do you want to hear, Frerin?” Thranduil’s servant inquired in a polite tone.

“What sort of man is your master?” the dwarf felt curious.

With a contemplative look Eldaron sat down in the chair and he delivered a very long and moving speech.

“He wears that thorny scathing look and sometimes sounds caustic, but he is very sensitive and conceals his feelings behind a mask of complacency and invulnerability. But he wasn’t always like that. And though he was not the kind of person who lived on dreams, his path was not scattered with flowers.” The elven guy turned silent for a moment watching the intrigued dwarf boy. “His father was slain in the Battle of Dagorlad about three thousand years ago, and my king who also fought bravely survived and returned to rule his father’s Woodland Realm. Then after a while when he had been married already and his wife gave a birth to Legolas, our prince, a horrible misfortune happened to her, and our king Thranduil had to bring up their son alone. He became a shut-in, fractious person who preferred a solitary way of life.”

Frerin smiled sadly and dropped his gaze remembering his own relatives those were dead now, his older brother Thorin who had always been a man of purpose, a bit stubborn, a bit ambitious, but very kind-hearted and merciful. And their younger sister Dis, who was only ten years old when Smaug the dragon attacked Erebor from the north, and all of them were compelled to flee their homeland.

“Ah — so that’s the way it is!” he uttered out loud looking at quieted Eldaron. “He must be the loneliest person I’ve ever met.”

The Elven guy produced a sad sigh and resumed talking.

“He is, Frerin, and furthermore, the heartiest.” Eldaron rose from the table and turned away from the dwarf. “I’ve been with him since my childhood. As a young boy, I lost my parents very early and became a vagabond. I’ve been in various troubles so many times and I’ve been safe and sound each time. But once in a lifetime I was in real danger when a devastating fire burnt out of control in Mithlond, in Gulf of Lhûn. There was a terrible panic and people were running for their lives, the turmoil was everywhere and I was trapped in a burning house. The roof gave way and collapsed over me. I was buried under the heavy boards and beams, and I nearly lost my consciousness and might have died of suffocation and burns but then I saw him, my Savior.” Eldaron made a long pause and then turned to hushed Frerin proudly looking at him. “King Thranduil came to my rescue out of nowhere and pulled me out of the smoking mountain of debris. He placed me on his horse and took me away from the burning city. We soon stopped at an inn, where he ordered me to be fed and clothed, and then we continued our journey. The elven lord asked me about my family and when he found out that I was an orphan, he offered me to stay by him. I gladly consented. During our long trip he gave me archery lessons and praised me, noticing my quick progress. He treated me very well and took care of me. And I felt so much obliged to him that I dreamt to pay him the same. When we were back in the Woodland Realm I was introduced to his wife and little prince Legolas. It was really the happiest time for us all. We lived in peace and harmony and nothing seemed to spoil it. But evil always scents where it goes well and comes when it wants. Very soon our forest turned into a dead foul place, and terrible creatures settled in it. My master made every effort to protect his family and enforce the kingdom. We were in safety for a while. A month passed, and my master was reported about great losses in the southern regions of Mirkwood where the evil forces dwelt. King Thranduil rode there with a small squad of his elves and they got into great trouble. I was at home with his wife and our little prince, and when she heard of her poor husband she ordered me to go there with her. I begged our lady to stay at home because it was too dangerous, but she didn’t care. In the vicious fortress where we all met I backed them twice, but at the third time I failed because my bow was crushed by an ugly beast. Our lady covered her king, and her heart was pierced by a black orcish arrow. She died in her husband’s arms, and his loss became our loss.” Eldaron made a deep sorrowful sigh and ended his story with the following phrase. “No one has been able to take his wife’s place in his heart ever since.”

Frerin was truly stunned by Eldaron’s heart-rending story and he couldn’t find the words to answer, he just stood thinking it all over.

So he approached the elven guy only a few minutes later and said in a compassionate tone.

“Your king has been through such harsh ordeals, not everyone could stand them. He is very fortunate to have such a valiant man like you at his side at the right moment, Eldaron.”

The elven guy smiled confusingly.

“All I can say, Frerin, is that my master is the best and no one will change my mind.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Eldaron. But for him, we would never have talked with you here. I’m grateful for his kindness and for his care.” The dwarf remarked.

“By the way, Frerin, I saw new rings on my master’s fingers, and they looked so amazingly beautiful. Is this your work?” the elven guy was eager to know.

Frerin nodded and replied.

“Yes, Eldaron. I must note that your king has a very fine nature, and I was happy to make something special for him. He was so generous to let me visit that wonderful pool downstairs, well, you probably know which I mean.”

Eldaron’s eyes widened, he was greatly surprised by the dwarf’s words.

“You mean a round pool with river water, Frerin?” the elven guy specified.

Frerin sent a couple of nods.

“Hmmm…” Eldaron’s amazement was endless. “You’ve been given a more than generous gesture, boy. Every elf in this kingdom knows that this is a private territory of our master which is forbidden to enter.”

“Really?” now it was Frerin’s turn to be astonished. “I never knew that.” He fell into thought. The Elven King paid attention to him and demonstrated his favor. His munificence for Frerin’s services was truly large, he even reposed special trust in him.

However, the dwarf who had earned the Elven King’s attention and trust didn’t want to misuse it. He understood that he had to stop using the royal pool.

***

Spring came in Middle Earth, and with it came new changes in Thranduil’s life. The ones he’d barely suspected or ever dreamt.

So since Frerin had stopped visiting the royal pool, Thranduil had seen no more hindrances to avoid his usual ritual. But the first night he happened to be in it, he felt that he was not alone. The young dwarf came in, walked to the pool where Thranduil was relaxing, and his hands touched his shoulders. The Elven King gave a start of surprise and looked at the dwarf in puzzlement, but then Frerin’s hands began to massage them, and Thranduil composed himself enjoying this pleasant feeling.

Frerin took off his clothes and climbed into the pool closer to Thranduil.

He beheld him strangely not understanding what that one’s up to.

The young dwarf took a step toward Thranduil, and his hand lay on his belly.

The Elven King continued to watch him intently but didn’t utter a word.

Frerin began to stroke his belly and then descended to the Elven King’s cock.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth as if going to ask him something.

The dwarf started fondling his flesh, and his touches were so much sensuous that soon the Elven King’s body trembled with delight.

Suddenly Frerin leaned against Thranduil and kissed him. That one immediately felt hot and dizzy from such a delightful excitement, and the next second he pulled the dwarf closer beginning to caress his skin.

Thranduil parted with Frerin for a moment and switched places with him. Now he stood behind the young dwarf, his arms around him, leaning against the edge of the pool.

Frerin obeyed Thranduil and soon felt his hands fondle his erected cock so teasingly that he moaned with pleasure. Thranduil’s attention turned to his buttocks; his hands squeezed them impatiently, and Frerin felt his firm flesh titivate his skin between them.

“Oh, please, Your Majesty!” He gave a begging moan, and Thranduil heard him. He carefully parted his buttocks and thrust in him. Frerin gave a twitch and moaned even louder with pleasure in the elven arms. Thranduil’s pushes were hard and exciting at the same time, and he kept the young dwarf in such a great tension that Frerin could barely restrain himself from immediate cumming. With his fervent moans Frerin drove Thranduil crazy, and it violently pushed the Elven King to his climax, and soon he leaned on the dwarf’s back, puffing.

“Haaa…oh, my! Looks like I came in your pool, Your Majesty. I’m sorry.” The dwarf apologized, and heard a tired panting of the Elven King.

“Drop it, Frerin and don’t call me Your Majesty anymore. I’m Thranduil to you.”

“Yes, Thranduil.” The dwarf replied and sighed, smiling easily. It was the first time in his life he felt truly happy.

After that, Frerin and Thranduil went to their rooms as if nothing had happened.

However, none of them could fall asleep because of this new excitement, which greatly disturbed their minds. Thranduil couldn’t understand what’s happening to him. He tossed and turned in his bed, and it felt so much hard and uncomfortable, so cold and unpleasant to fall asleep in it.

Frerin lay in the darkness, lost in the memory of the past evening, and how it had happened in the royal pool. And though it was quite a new feeling for him, he liked it immensely and he was filled with its aftertaste of sensation, and it was enjoyable till the moment he slumbered. Because his nightmares that he suffered every night had returned to haunt him again. And he cried with terrible pain as he swallowed these numerous, endless, bitter tears that rolled downs his cheeks. He lamented his relatives endlessly.

It lasted until the moment he felt a sweet comforting voice in his ear, and then someone wiped away his tears and began stroking his body. Frerin turned and saw the Elven King by his side. The latter smiled mysteriously at him and said below his breath.

“Come here. I’ll ease your pain.”

And Frerin felt the power of his words when in the next moment they merged in such an alluring kiss. And then again his hands began to caress the elven pale skin, and then again Thranduil brought him to this state of overexcitement, and then again he moaned with delight in his arms as the Elven King began loving him. Was it a dream or not, but Frerin was really happy to feel it all. This time they came together, and the dwarf lay smiling peacefully in Thranduil’s arms.

After a while they started talking.

“I see your nightmares keep intervening in your life, Frerin.” The Elven King mentioned in a sympathetic tone.

The dwarf sighed wearily.

“Yes, Thranduil. You cured my body of wounds, but you couldn’t cure me of my memories, they will stay with me eternally.”

Thranduil’s hand ran through Frerin’s black hair, and he replied showing his concern.

“I know, Frerin. But it’s just a matter of time. Trust me; they will become much weaker as soon as they start fading. Your memory is arranged to forget things with time passing by.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth to forget it.” Frerin replied to Thranduil, and that one felt a strange jealous fire inside himself. At this exact moment of pleasure he thought the dwarf belonged completely to him, but his nature called to him and that was the thing Thranduil had not really ever wished to happen. So he tried to switch the dwarf on different tune. 

“Frerin, why don’t you move into my room? I’m sure your nightmares will never dare to appear even on the threshold of it.” He gazed at him smiling softly.

Frerin gifted him a trustful eye.

“Shall I?”

“Yes, you shall do this because you need it very much.” Thranduil assured him.

“What will the others think of it? Your son for example?” the dwarf wondered just in case.

Thranduil snorted insulted.

“No one will care. I’m the King of the Woodland Realm, and in my kingdom I do what I consider necessary, whatever my heart desires.”

Frerin nodded, pondering on his words. It felt like something new has started in his life. Something brand new and really exciting.

“I shall do this.” He said and was rewarded with ever sweetest kiss of gladdened Thranduil.

“That sounds good, Frerin.” Thranduil praised his decision and slightly pulled him along. “Let’s go to me now, and while the night still lasts we could do it again.”

It sounded so teasing that Frerin experienced that pleasant sensation down below.

He smiled at restless Thranduil and replied.

“Yes, all right. Let’s go to you, Thranduil.”

***

Since then, Frerin and Thranduil became lovers.

The young dwarf constantly stayed in the royal chamber by the Elven King’s side, and his nightmares no longer tortured him.

Nightmares of Frerin simply vanished.

As he kissed his beloved, Thranduil heard it over and over again and repeated it complacently each time.

“Remember what I told you.”

And the happy lovers spent all the nights and days together because nothing interfered with them anymore.

But three years thence, the Elven King discovered a very unpleasant and unwanted truth. His elven scouts informed him that several dwarves had survived the battle of Nanduhirion and reached Ered Luin, where they had settled. Enjoying his bliss with his new beloved, Thranduil didn’t wish to disturb that balance for rather egoistic reasons. That’s why he didn’t tell Frerin anything. He also strictly forbade his Wood-elves to speak with the dwarf on this matter. Howbeit, the Elven King feared that Frerin would learn something about this, and he pretended that he was so much upset with deplorable affairs in his kingdom, that this even more attracted the dwarf’s attention to his new elven beloved.

One evening they were talking on the veranda at dinner.

“What troubles you so much, my love?” Frerin inquired in a caring voice. “Your astounding eyes of azure have been enshrouded with this weird veil of sadness for several days.”

Thranduil sipped his wine and answered pensively.

“As you may have heard, Frerin, the forest of mine is a rather sinister place to live in. But lately it has become even more dangerous as my elven scouts have informed me. I’m really troubled because now these monstrous creatures dare to approach much closer to my Woodland Realm.”

Frerin, who was sitting on other side of the Elven King suddenly rose and walked up to Thranduil. He squatted down before him and took his empty glass.

“You have nothing to fear, my love as long as I’m by your side.” The dwarf declared and proved it with his faithful kiss.

Then Frerin got up and pulled the Elven King after him.

“Come with me, I want to show you something.”

Thranduil stared at him, intrigued, but obeyed and went after the dwarf.

The latter brought him into the royal chamber and asked him to close his eyes.

Thranduil did as the dwarf asked and then felt something hard on his palms.

When Frerin permitted him to open his eyes, Thranduil yelled with delight. There was a silver ring with such an incredible precious stone of blue, its surface emitted iridescent patches of light.

“What is it, Frerin?” Thranduil’s voice vibrated with the great excitement as he marveled at the striking unique play of light that gave the effect of fire blazing within the crystal.

“It is a fire opal, Thranduil.” The dwarf explained, smiling gladly at Thranduil who was highly fascinated by its beauty. “This stone can change its color depending on the surroundings.”

Thranduil simply couldn’t utter a word. He was stunned by its unbelievable attractiveness to the core and stared inside the crystal which radiated warm lights.

Frerin suddenly embraced the Elven King and made him look at him.

“I was inspired by the moment you saved me and by that magical healing fire of yours which filled me with new vital energy. It revived me and stayed in my heart, and then turned into love, when we fell in love with each other.”

Thranduil listened to Frerin’s beautiful words, looked at the glowing crystal, and felt harmonious warmth inside his soul.

The dwarf drew his beloved closer and whispered.

“This is the first time in my life. I think I’m really in love for the first time.” He stated gazing into the bottomless azure eyes of the Elven King above him.

Thranduil smiled warmly at his beloved’s remark. He liked his sincere avowal that sounded a bit childish.

“I’m very pleased to hear such words, Frerin.” He uttered and added. “And I’m so happy that you gifted me such a miracle. What can I do for you?”

Frerin gave the Elven King a thankful smile.

“There is no greater reward for me than your kiss, my love.” He replied. “So bestow me your kiss.”

And Thranduil closed his eyes, leaning toward the young dwarf and did so.

Frerin pulled him closer and they both fell on the bed. This time it was special, and Thranduil surrendered to the giving arms of Frerin, and the dwarf controlled the whole process of his pleasing. Soaring in the clouds of happiness, moaning with pleasure and overexcitement, the King of the Silvan Elves was beside himself with this ecstasy. The end of their loving act when Frerin came inside him caused a reciprocal reaction, and Thranduil had his bright climax right away.

He lay, panting from bliss along with Frerin which was behind him and tiredly puffed in his ear.

“Oh, my, Frerin! It was so damn exciting! I’ve never felt anything like this in my life!” Thranduil exclaimed.

Frerin moaned with delight in his beloved’s ear.

“It has also given me great pleasure, my love. Thank you.”

Thranduil turned to the exhausted dwarf and hugged him, never wishing to part with him.

“I love you so much, Frerin! My heart cries with joy and happiness.”

The lovers did this again, and then, having appeased for a while, fell asleep.

After that fantastic night, Thranduil’s spirit had been in elated state for so long that he had promised himself never to tell the dwarf about his relatives. He knew very well where it would lead to if he told him about it, and he didn’t wish to lose such a devoted lover.

Thank Eru there was no more news for about thirty nine years. Then Thranduil found out that Thráin had set out from the Blue Mountains, seeking to return to Erebor.

Four years later he was captured by Sauron, who thus recovered the last of the Seven Rings of the Dwarves. Unaware of his father’s fate, Thráin’s son Thorin became the King of Durin’s Folk.

“So now the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain may smoke themselves into tranquility.” The Elven King thought as he heard the latest news from his elven scouts, and he laughed wickedly. “Finally, no one will bother me and Frerin.”

The time of happiness and togetherness continued. For another ninety five years they enjoyed each other, admiring the lovely sunrises and sunsets on the veranda and whiling away the warm summer nights, telling each other various stories about their kin and days of yore. Frerin was re-telling his beloved Elven King stories of the wondrous kingdom of Khazad-dûm which he had heard from his folk, and into which they, the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain hadn’t been able to enter. Of Bundushathûr, Barazinbar and Zirakzigil, the three Mountains of Moria that towered above the ancient Dwarf-kingdom of Khazad-dûm in the heart of the Misty Mountains. Most of the time Thranduil kept quiet, only occasionally the dwarf could see him flush bright red because of the negative feelings he had to restrain inside, it had to do with the past that had broken into their relationship. And although the Elven King in his turn gave Frerin very scant information about his past life, the dwarf was glad to hear all that his beloved was ready to tell.

On cold winter evenings, sitting close to the fireplace on the pillows, the lovers had a pleasant conversation and enjoyed wine and fruit in Thranduil’s chamber.

They shared thoughts about their future, talked about their feelings, and could not have enough of talking, clinging to the conversation with all their might, so as to get rid of boredom.

When night fell, and this pleasant warm atmosphere made their feelings flare up with renewed vigor, they made themselves more comfortable, basking in each other’s arms before the fire, and conversed in murmurs, sharing their dreams and fantasies.

At first Frerin lay on Thranduil’s chest, while the Elven King teased him with breathtaking kisses and beamed with delight when he received his partner’s sweet compliments.

And then they changed places, and Thranduil allowed Frerin to admire his beauty.

Fondling the silky strands of silver, Frerin sang to his beloved about his exalted love while his partner’s head rested on the dwarf’s lap, and his piercing eyes of azure mesmerized Frerin.

Oh, love of mine

My heart’s desire

My heart, it turned into fire

That burns with passion

For your strong attraction

Inside this gemstone ring

You have on your finger that rules everything

Your wish is my command; my heart is on its knees

Oh, please, give me your love, oh, please bestow your kiss

And I will see my chance to please you all the night

As long as you’re by my side I’ll feel this great delight

The light of love so strong, it never fades away

It guards and holds you day and night with my eternal flame.

And when the dwarf finished, the Elven King was enjoying the compliments again and then it all melted smoothly into something pretty hot.

In general, Thranduil received all the attention of Frerin, and the latter was happy to please his beloved with some new adornment every now and then.

When the ninety-sixth year came, the elven scouts again reported on the dwarves in Ered Luin. It looked like they were going to return to Erebor. A small company with Thorin Oakenshield, Frerin’s brother as a leader headed east. Thranduil was red with rage once he heard this.

“Oh, just come here! I will show you who the King here is! I’ll show you up, I’ll humiliate you just as you did to me in front of my people.” Thranduil swore.

Meanwhile, he was also mulling over Frerin, and how to keep him busy when his brother appears here. He invented nothing better than asking him to create something new for him.

Thranduil’s Wood-elves were always spying on the dwarves, and as they passed through Mirkwood using the old forest road, the elves captured them and brought them to their king.

The Lord of Mirkwood had never suspected that Thorin was eager to see him. He was going to punish the dwarf and throw him into the dungeon, so he demanded to bring him to the Throne Hall wishing him to get his comeuppance.

However, he could say nothing, for Frerin’s brother had accused him of cowardice when the Elven King had watched the dwarvish disaster and hadn’t come to their aid. It was in the days of Smaug’s invasion to Erebor.

In his defense, Thranduil had planned to accuse the dwarves of stealing his family heirloom, but as soon as he opened his mouth, Thorin spoke again.

“I told you I loved you!” the dwarf reminded him of his visit before Smaug invaded Erebor. “But you didn’t hear me! You ran away like a huffy child!” he came closer to the Elven King, who now stood still, open-mouthed, and staring at him with square eyes, startled by his sudden onset. “I prayed you to stay. But you didn’t care! I was pretty sure you saw LOVE in my eyes! It was love at first sight! I was enchanted by your grace!”

The Elven King twitched and blinked, he was highly shocked by the dwarf’s words.

“I came here to ask you to marry me!”

Hearing Thorin’s proposal, Thranduil felt as if someone had hit him hard on his head. Never had he been so embarrassed.

“What? You what? I am not certain I had heard it aright.” He uttered in a stunned voice and noticed the dwarf was looking the other way; he, too turned his head slightly.

Thranduil glanced over his shoulder and closed his eyes, cursing under his breath.

“Frerin?” Thorin’s voice sounded abashed. He couldn’t believe his eyes. “Frerin?” he repeated again refusing to believe what he saw before him.

“Thorin!” Frerin made a step towards his brother, smiling gladly. “Thorin!” he flung himself to him, and they hugged each other tightly.

“I thought you were dead. Where have you been?” Thorin was extremely happy to see his brother and he clapped him on his shoulder. His eyes glistened with joy as he scanned these familiar traits so similar to his own. “Hey! You’re such a big man!” his hands caressed Frerin’s bristled cheek.

His brother was crying from happiness. “I thought you all perished there, Thorin. I did know nothing of your destiny.”

Thorin nodded.

“We have returned to reclaim our homeland from the dragon.” The dwarf informed him anxiously, and Frerin decided to support him. “I’d like to go with you, brother. You said you weren’t alone?”

Thorin smiled.

“Yes, there are thirteen of us waiting to continue our journey.”

“Khe..khe.” the both dwarves heard Thranduil’s fake coughing behind them.

“Guards!” he called, and then approached them.

“I hope you’ve talked enough about you family matters, so it’s time to continue Thorin’s journey to my dungeon.” He declared arrogantly, and the next moment two armed elven guards appeared and twisted Thorin’s arms.

“What’s going on here?” Frerin resented gazing at the Elven King.

Thranduil grinned at bewildered Thorin.

“Frustration here you will only find. There can be no love between the dwarf like you and the elf like me.” He suddenly stepped aside from him.

“Tell you more. I don’t wish to behold you here anymore!” he climbed the stairs to his throne. “You failed your mission! Dismissed!” Thranduil gestured to his guards, and they dragged the dwarf away.

Frerin immediately reached his beloved, feeling agitated.

“What’s going on here? Why did you order him to be thrown into the dungeon? He’s done nothing wrong!” he shouted indignantly.

The Elven King rose from his throne going down to the dwarf. He felt extremely annoyed by impertinent words of Frerin.

“He chose the wrong time to come! It was the wrong to say such things to me! He did everything wrong in one word!” he snapped.

Frerin burnt with rising enmity.

“I intend to go with him. You…” he looked disappointed at his beloved who stood before him. “You lied to me about my brother and the others! Why didn’t you ever tell me about that?” he cast Thranduil in teeth.

The Elven King snorted complacently and answered him in a cold voice.

“I just spared your feelings, Frerin.”

Looming over the disconcerted dwarf, Thranduil resumed his speech. “They left you there for dead, Frerin. What would have become of you if I had never come? Where were they when you suffered in an anguished agony in Nanduhirion?”

Frerin swallowed as he saw the cruel gleam in his beloved’s eyes. He had never seen him in such a state; moreover, he was shocked by his dishonorable act.

“Why have you done this?” he whispered, glancing at his sweet lips he had kissed not so long ago. Now angry Thranduil seemed a complete stranger to him.

“I’ve done this because I felt bad for you. I never knew you were a dwarf when I helped you. But even then I understood that I had done everything right because you proved me wrong about you. We fell in love with each other, and I was happy to be by your side. Being with you, I felt like I was reborn. I never wanted you to leave.” The Elven King paused staring at Frerin’s bedewed eyes. “Don’t you understand that I love you?” he asked and the dwarf saw his beloved’s lips were trembling with emotion.

“Your Majesty,” Frerin took Thranduil by the wrists. “You should have never lied to me. By doing so, you have undermined the trust between us. How can I be sure you’re not lying to me now?”

Thranduil’s eyes suddenly narrowed. Frerin’s words immensely hurt him.

“I will go with my brother, and we will never see each other again.” The dwarf stated firmly and with one last hard look at the Elven King, he departed.

Thranduil smirked after the dwarf.

A minute later he ordered his guards to put Frerin into the dungeon, as well as he did with his brother.

“Cool down, my love, and stay in prison for a while until I decide what to do with both of you.” He mentioned as if advising him.

Thranduil had a lot of wine that night. He felt wrought-up and couldn’t bear it any longer. 

As he sat on the veranda, looking at the bright stars with his tipsy eyes, he remembered all the one hundred and forty-two years he had spent with Frerin, and how devoted he had been to him. Until that dratted Thorin came and ruined everything.

“Melkor take this Oakenshield!” The Elven King swore angrily and smashed his decanter on the floor. “He screwed up everything by coming here and telling me things like that! He’d been dreaming about me for two hundred years, he said! Ha! You only proposed to me today, don’t you remember? Why didn’t you come earlier? Where have you been all these years??? Damn you!” He shouted furiously at the imaginary dwarf. He was simply simmering with pure rage, feeling a terrible madness overwhelm him. He wished to strangle Thorin who had intervened in his life.

Now that the both brothers were in the dungeon, Thranduil had to invent something. He didn’t wish to let Frerin go but it seemed impossible when Thorin was already here.

“What if I let Thorin go and tell Frerin that he left without him?” he thought. “Nope. He won’t believe me this time. May be I shall...damn that fucking dwarf!” Thranduil crossly slammed his fist against the back of the couch he was sitting on.

He racked his brain for a long time, but did not find a suitable solution and just fell asleep.

Fortune seemed to hear Thranduil’s commotion of the nerves.

Just right the next morning, the Elven King who was still on his veranda where he had spent his lonely night, felt unexpectedly gladdened to hear that the dwarves with Thorin had escaped. He went down to check Frerin who all the night did not sleep a wink.

“Your brother dwarf left my kingdom with his kin last night. He’s gone home without you, Frerin.” Thranduil informed the dwarf. Well, Thorin was actually looking for his brother but since Thranduil had hidden him well, he had to leave the Woodland Realm without him.

“You’re lying!” Frerin’s displeased voice sounded behind the bars. He no longer wanted to approach the man who had treated him so foully.

“I see you’re still burning with hatred to me, my boy. You think that I sowed the seeds of enmity in your soul, but your enmity is needless.” The Elven King said, trying to sound calm and bridle that wrath that was simmering inside him. “I suppose I will visit you later and meanwhile Eldaron will come to you and bring you food.”

“I’m not hungry.” Frerin replied quickly, annoying Thranduil with his daring words.

Thranduil sighed heavily at his stubbornness and left.

That evening Thranduil went down again to his beloved, but the dwarf refused to talk with him; he simply stayed quiet and did not reply to his questions. The food Eldaron had brought him earlier was untouched.

Thranduil was terribly enraged. Enraged with Thorin, enraged with Frerin, enraged with himself. He was in a deadlock completely at a loss how to act further. He had drunk the night away to lose himself again. Nightmares of his own past tormented him as soon as he was lost in slumber. His father, his wife, they all perished, and it’s not in his power to bring them back.

Thranduil slept until noon, and then went to the dungeon.

“I demand that you talk to me! I think I deserve it after all I have done for you.” he mentioned strictly, standing near the dwarf’s prison chamber.

Frerin approached the metal bars and said.

“I will do so. But only if you promise to let me out.”

Studying his beloved’s sore eyes, Thranduil asked him.

“What will you do when I let you out?”

Frerin’s hands gripped the metal bars, and he answered without hesitation.

“I will have a word with you as I promised and then I’ll leave your kingdom.”

He heard Thranduil chuck nervously in response, and then he came closer.

His palms covered Frerin’s hands, and he gave him a conceited look.

“Do I look like a fool, Frerin?”

Thorin’s brother removed his hands and uttered coldly.

“If that’s the case, I refuse talking to you, Your Majesty.”

Thranduil slapped the bars sharply.

“Melkor take you and your stubbornness!” he swore and left him alone, walking angrily away.

Thranduil spent the rest of the day in his chamber, thinking about the situation, and the night was surrendered to drinking again. A new week began, and he stopped going to Frerin’s chamber, and heard only one and the same phrase from his elves that the dwarf kept away from food. Thranduil called Eldaron and when his servant arrived, he told him so.

“I want you to persuade Frerin to eat the food you bring him.”

The black-haired elven boy bowed.

“Yes, my lord. I will speak to him today.”

Later that day Thranduil’s servant visited the dwarf boy.

And although the dwarf was upset, he went up to the metal bars and smiled sadly at Eldaron, who brought him bread, cheese and tea.

“If you do not eat, you will die!” that one uttered and put the tray on the floor beside the metal door.

Frerin sat down on the floor.

“Now, why does he do this, your master?” he inquired the elven guy when the latter squatted down by his door.

“He really cares for you and he fears that you will leave him and never come back, Frerin. He’s is so much jealous.” Eldaron explained, and his hand stroked the dwarf’s hand. “I’m sure he regrets he is to handle it this way. But you must treat him with condescension.”

The dwarf sighed out tiredly and looked at Eldaron incredulously.

“I’m sorry Eldaron. I can’t trust him anymore. He blamed the dwarves for fraud, but he acted in bad faith, he did as he pleased. It is most inconsiderate of him to act that way.” He shared his thoughts with him.

“Although I will not justify the actions of my master, I find it reasonable that he should do so, Frerin.” Eldaron uttered and saw a change passed over the dwarf’s countenance.

“I thought you were on my side, but I see that you stand for your master, Eldaron.” Frerin got up and turned away.

“Please leave me alone.”

Eldaron rose, going to depart.

“Frerin, I shall not bother you with my presence any more. For the sake of our friendship, I’m asking you to eat the food I brought you. I honestly don’t know about my master’s intentions but I will keep visiting you and bring you food here, and nothing will stop me because I’m really concerned about your health.”

Thranduil’s servant heard quiet thanks and smiled. That meant Frerin wasn’t angry with him.

And so he did as he had promised, and kept going to the dwarf’s prison, and brought him food and water each day. His master didn’t give in and stood his ground. He made only a few exceptions for the dwarf, allowing him to wash, but the guards watched him closely. This forced imprisonment lasted about two months until the late autumn came. All the while Eldaron visited Frerin he shared food and news with him.

Frerin still appeared withdrawn, almost calm, and indifferent to the events outside. He only got interested when Eldaron informed him that the dwarves had managed to drive the dragon out of the mountain and it had been killed. He got so much excited by the news that he asked Eldaron to bring him some wine. That night the both friends drank the whole bottle together.

“I don’t hold anything against your king, but he behaves wrong.” Frerin said to Eldaron. “His absence here proves that he doesn’t feel sorry for his actions. He waits for me to change my mind, but I won’t do it.”

“Yes, you’re damn stubborn, Frerin!” The elven guy laughed and tapped on his shoulder through the bars.

The dwarf’s eyes grew sadder for a moment as he stared into vacancy.

“But you know, Eldaron I’m still in love with him, and the thoughts of him have haunted my mind every night, since I’ve been here. They are worse than the nightmares I had long long ago when I thought I’d lost all my kin in the battle of Azanulbizar and then after I learnt several of us stayed alive I got rid of the nightmares, and was all over. But these incredible dreams about your king gave me no rest and in them I still love him, hold him in my arms and whisper endearments in his ear, ah!” he took a deep breath.

Eldaron gave a knowing wink at the dwarf and offered.

“I think you should talk about this with my king, Frerin.”

“I won’t.” he said quickly as if he had anticipated Eldaron’s proposition. “This only happens in my dreams. Actually, I don’t feel like talking to him because I think we do not belong together anymore.”

Was it strange or not but Frerin wasn’t alone in his feelings. This entire period of Frerin’s absence the Elven King had been moping and missing the dwarf badly. He put all his jewelry made by his beloved on the pillow nearby and admired it from morning till night, cherishing all their precious moments they had together. Especially his loving eyes caressed the opal that burnt like a blazing fire, reminding Thranduil of his beloved’s heart, the beloved who was no longer by his side, the beloved who no longer burnt with passion for him. The bright glowing of the stone sometimes looked unbearably horrendous and it stung his whole being to the core haunting his mind with images of Frerin, his lover he had lost. Sometimes he thought that he’s crying but it was just his imagination. Although Thranduil understood that it’s foolish to suffer from love when it’s close to you, he remembered the desire of Frerin to go away and so he preferred to suffer further. So abandoned by his lover, he pined away.

In the meantime, his elven scouts wasted no time in spying on the escaped dwarves. They came back with good news. The dwarves had regained their mountain and Thorin was going to become the new King under the Mountain.

Thranduil suddenly decided to besiege the Lonely Mountain and reclaim his heirlooms from Thorin. He looked forward to a resounding defeat of the dwarves, and saw himself avenging on Thorin, Frerin’s brother. Yes, he had so often imagined this bloody reprisal.

When at last he was prepared to meet the enemy, another elven squad returned from the Grey Mountains and they reported that a massive host of orcs was moving towards Erebor and they wanted to occupy the mountain for Sauron.

The Elven King ordered all his elven soldiers to be gathered and warned Eldaron that he would have to keep a close eye on imprisoned Frerin.

“Guard him with your life!” He warned his servant and headed to the dungeon to bid farewell to his beloved.

Seeing the Elven King in his armor, the dwarf felt surprised.

Thranduil had been here about two months ago and he couldn’t hide his amorous eyes from Frerin.

The dwarf was also glad to see his beloved and so he approached the door of his chamber. The two beloveds stared so fixedly at one another’s eyes that it seemed they were about to kiss, reconcile and start all over again. But Thranduil had ruined everything.

“I’m leaving, Frerin.” He clarified. “I came here to say that I will feel safe when I know that you’ll be safe here. I think I can come back with victory and then we will talk again.”

The dwarf scanned his beloved’s dearest traits thinking of his words. He already knew the news from Eldaron about the forthcoming battle.

“That’s stupid.” He uttered suddenly amazing the Elven King.

“What’s stupid, Frerin?” Thranduil inquired, feeling intrigued.

“To go to war because of the treasures.” The dwarf explained, and the Elven King felt the mockery in his phrase.

“Aren’t you those greedy creatures who stole my heirloom?” Thranduil’s caustic answer rang.

Frerin cast down his eyes and then uttered with a sigh.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about our love and relationship trying to understand where I made that dangerous fatal mistake and let you love me more than I ever wanted to…”

Thranduil pricked his ears in attempt to discern his every word.

“And I learnt it when we parted. I let you steal my heart and it stayed in your power because when you’re far away I die without you and when you’re close it revives again.”

“Aw, Frerin!” A pink flush overspread the Elven King’s face and tears glistened in his eyes.

The dwarf leaned to the metal bars, he was crying too.

The hands of both beloveds fondled each other.

“Please let me go.” He begged gazing into Thranduil’s wet eyes.

His beloved’s lips trembled.

“I can’t.” he shook his head. “I’d rather die than let you go.”

Frerin’s spirit wilted. He realized that he would get no change out of Thranduil. 

“Why don’t you let me go to my kin?” he shot through the bars in an excited voice. “I want to fight side by side with my brother, to fight for the honor of my kingdom. I’m Durin’s son, I’m not gonna hole up behind enemy lines!” Frerin looked so much frustrated.

“I’m sorry, Frerin.” Thranduil could only answer him. “I can’t let you die there even if you want it so much because I need you...”

The Elven King left his kingdom with a heavy heart, and though he knew that the dwarf would be in safety he didn’t feel in peace with himself. Somewhere on the edge of his mind he still thought that Frerin would reconsider his attitude towards him and decide to stay, and only then would Thranduil dare think he would permit him to visit his kin. But these were only thoughts of a vague future. Now it was time to think about his heirloom and the coming war.

Twelve days later the elven host reached the City of Dale at dusk. The next day the siege of Erebor was planned. And as Thranduil neared his long awaited target he felt an increasing improvement in his mood. He was lost in thought, imagining how in this moment of happiness he would get his heirloom, the treasure that had been stolen from him almost two hundred years ago.

“They will all suffer for this outrage.” He promised, drinking his cherry wine in his tent and thinking of tomorrow. “I will take my treasure and victoriously come back home to Frerin once this Dwarves-Elves story will be handled.”

As he filled his glass with a new portion of wine he suddenly remembered his beloved and said.

“I wonder how Frerin is now. Does he think of me?”

In fact Thorin’s brother dreamt of seeing Thranduil and also wanted to see his brother and his kin. He wanted to seize on a pretext for departing just to make Eldaron believe he needed to be with the Elven King.

Thranduil’s servant visited him every day, and Frerin kept asking him to let him go.

But Eldaron stayed as solid as a rock. Remembering his master’s order, he refused the dwarf each time.

Tired of the elven guy’s denials, Frerin decided to use his last chance.

“Listen, Eldaron,” he said a few days after. “I think I remember the place where I hid the treasure of your king.”

The elven boy came closer to the dwarf’s door and asked curiously.

“So where is it?”

Frerin felt his interest, smiled and continued. “Well, it is in the treasure hoard of Thrór. But you know it’s so great that you will have to spend years to find it there. And I know exactly where it is and could show it to your king.”

“Hmmm…” Eldaron pronounced thoughtfully.

Sensing these necessary notes of hesitation of the elven guy Frerin used his last trump.

“Just imagine, he’s alone and he needs my help. You know I care for him as well as he cares for me. And now I can say I miss him badly. So, in general, I could quickly find the treasure of your king and we could come back together.”

“The battlefield is not a place for love’s reckless schemes.” Eldaron cut him off abruptly.

Frerin took an irksome sigh.

“All right…well, don’t believe me now but since time flies quickly you will have to do it.”

Eldaron gave him no answer and simply left.

The situation with entreaties repeated the next day, and the day after. Frerin coaxed Thranduil’s servant to let him out by pushing him.

At the end of the third day when Eldaron as usual came down to the dwarf, he turned to admonishment all of a sudden.

“Don’t you understand that you’re endangering the life of your master by holding me here? I could help him to get rid of this obstacle and save ’im time. When he sees me there he will understand that you did everything right when you let me go.” Frerin’s insistent glance affected the elven guy.

Finally Eldaron gave up and unlocked the dwarf’s door.

He embraced Frerin so tightly that he gasped in surprise.

“I wish you all the luck in the world, Frerin! And please come back quickly otherwise I will get my head blown off.”

“I will do so, Eldaron.” Frerin promised, smiling amiably at him. “And thank you for everything.”

The old friends exchanged hugs once again and parted.

It was not until two and a half hours later when Frerin reached the Lonely Mountain and entered it through the secret door, for the impressive elven host stood at the front gate, that Thranduil’s servant realized that he had broken his promise to his master.

“Oh, Great Eru! What have I done???” he bewailed, and wishing to amend the situation, rode to the Lonely Mountain.

In the meantime, Frerin found the treasure of the Elven King and put it in his pocket.

Leaving the treasure hoard, he headed to the Throne Hall where he found his brother.

Thorin was awfully amazed and glad to see him again and deluged him with questions.

“Oh, Mahal! Frerin! How did you get away from the Elven King? Did he treat you badly? How did you come to be there?”

Frerin breathed deeply, recollecting the Elven King’s image, and spoke.

“Oh, Thorin! I’d like to tell you so much, but I don’t think a lifetime will be enough to reveal everything to you.”

Thorin nodded knowingly and invited Frerin to take a walk around the kingdom.

“That chilling winter evening when you left, the Elven King saved me.” Frerin began his story. “I don’t know how but I managed to reach the shore of Celebrant. I kept crawling until I lost the remnants of my strength and then I passed out. I don’t remember what happened after that, I just memorized that wondrous moment when he appeared and healed me with his saving magic. The Elven King took me with him to his Woodland Realm and took care of me so well that I very soon recovered. I felt so much obliged for his kind deed and I wanted to be grateful to him as well. I thought about how I could be of use to him and decided to please him with the jewelry that I started making for him. Thranduil was so much happy that he seemed to have forgotten the shameful act of humiliation he had suffered because of our grandfather Thrór, Thorin. I tried to expiate that deadly affront and I pleased him once again, and then once again, and deserved his favor. He turned to be so different from the person we used to think so badly of, brother. He was so merciful and so kind. He cured me of my nightmares and proposed to me wishing me to become a part of him. Unnoticeably, unexpectedly and so strongly we fell in love with each other and enjoyed this bliss for years. I could have sworn that I had never experienced anything like this in my life and never wanted to change anything, unless there were obstacles.” He suddenly flushed and dropped his gaze.

Thorin came to a halt, for he felt stunned beyond all measure by Frerin’s story.

When his brother ended, he couldn’t utter a word.

There was a long tense silence between the two brothers, and each of them was having his own thoughts.

“Then why did you come here?” Thorin asked his brother after a while, and Frerin seemed to hear a note of jealousy in his voice.

He straightened up proudly and stated.

“I’m Durin’s son. And I do have the right to fight for my kingdom, fight to the utterance.”

Thorin had a change of heart and smiled friendly.

“Welcome home, brother!” and they hugged one another.

The night before the battle was sleepless, and the two brothers devoted it to remembrances, and Frerin’s soul sang in beatitude, for he had regained his lost brother and he felt he got his life back together. And although his beloved Thranduil was on the opposite side, the dwarf felt his nearness well, and this pleasant warmth kept his heart beating faster than ever.

As he fell asleep, he thought of the charming Elven King and of seeing him on the battlefield tomorrow. Yes, he will be angry with him at first, but then when he sees his treasure, he will have mercy on him, and they will heal the breach.

In the very early morning a great terrible battle for possession of the Lonely Mountain took place.

First there was a confrontation between the Wood-elves and Lake-men on the one side, and the Dwarves of Thorin and Dáin on the other, but then a dark cloud appeared from the north – these were the orcs who were marching towards the Lonely Mountain. The Elves, Men and Dwarves quickly forgot their differences in the face of this new threat, and battle was joined on the slopes of Erebor and the valley beneath.

Frerin’s dream was to fight enemies alongside his brother, and it seemed to be coming true right here and now.

His Elven King and several of his soldiers were pushed back behind the walls of ruined Dale.

Thranduil entered the battle wielding his silver swords. They clashed and clanged, and chopped and killed his opponents by the dozen. He struck violently and generously right and left until it was all over.

Having disposed of his enemies, Thranduil lowered his swords and fetched his breath. Suddenly he saw Eldaron coming toward him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he thundered angrily and saw him turn pale as he threw himself at his feet, and then he turn pale himself.

“Frerin.” His lips whispered, and he felt his heart sink, his knees buckle at the sound of Eldaron’s distressed voice.

“I’m so sorry, Your Majesty! The dwarf managed to escape from your kingdom.”

Thranduil’s troublous look wandered over the ruins of Dale beholding the dead bodies of slain enemies and his own soldiers who had fallen bravely here.

His mind quivered feverishly with the desire to chop off his servant’s head. However, along with this he knew that he had no time for reprisal and needed to find Frerin.

Looking up at the Lonely Mountain that rose over the dragon-shattered city of men, Thranduil tried to figure out which way to go.

“He should be with his brother.” This quick thought dawned on the Elven King, and without losing a second, he flung himself back to Erebor.

Obeying an unseen force that drove him forward, Thranduil was cutting his way through the hell of a mess fighting persons and responded to counter-attacks, while he surveyed the battlefield for Frerin.

The rage that burned within induced him to surmount any hindrances on his way, for his heart bled for his beloved and all his thoughts went out to Frerin, who was fighting somewhere nearby. Nearing the Lonely Mountain with every step, the Elven King seemed to sense the presence of the dwarf.

His unerring instinct didn’t betray him and soon he noticed his beloved before the front gate.

Frerin lay sprawled on the snow-covered ground, coughing and dripping with blood.

Thranduil’s eyes fell on his heirloom in his bloodied hand and it made him shudder.

As he crouched down near his wounded beloved, he stared at him, terrified.

The Elven King extended his hands to the dwarf attempting to help him.

“No…let me die now.” That had a bad cough. I’ve already fought my battle and won your heart.”

“Frerin.” Thranduil couldn’t hide his bitter tears from his beloved, which ran quicker down his face. “Frerin…please.” His hand stroked his cold pale cheek.

Bilbo came in sight, approaching them.

Gazing at the mourning Elven King, the hobbit looked alarmed.

“Your Majesty, please hurry! Thorin is fatally wounded.”

Displeased Thranduil frowned, he kept his bedewed eyes on the dying dwarf.

“Please…save ‘im…” Frerin licked his dry lips, wincing in pain. “For my sake…”

The Elven King’s eyes fluttered as he felt a terrible sense of hopelessness.

“My love…” Frerin scanned eagerly the dearest image of his lover as if trying to memorize him, his tangled silver strands, his startled eyes of azure. Frerin’s fingers sluggishly squeezed Thranduil’s hand that was on his palm.

“Thank you for every…” he couldn’t end his phrase, and his glassy eyes froze forever.

“Frerin…” Thranduil whispered in a broken hoarse voice, feeling his torn with grief heart stop beating together with his dead beloved.

“Forgive me.” His pale lips uttered very quietly, and his hand closed Frerin’s eyes.

He heard Bilbo’s troubled voice again.

“Your Majesty, Thorin is dying.”

The Elven King blinked for a second and clenched his teeth stubbornly. His look was directed at his dead beloved and it was blank.

He really had no desire to go anywhere and do something he did not wish to do, especially when somebody was spurring him on.

Thranduil cast his indifferent gaze over the nervous hobbit and turned it towards motionless Frerin.

“For my sake.” Frerin’s words echoed in his head.

“Your Majesty.” Bilbo called for the third time.

Thranduil sighed wearily and reluctantly turned to the halfling as he rose.

“Lead me there.”

Bilbo nodded and went quickly forward.

Thranduil didn’t fail his beloved and he healed Thorin as he had once saved Frerin, his brother, one of the males of Durin’s line, his precious love he had lost forevermore.


End file.
